


The Great Christmas Tree Hunt 2017

by EachPeachPearPlum



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Tree, Fluff, Hot Chocolate, M/M, Tree cutting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-13 16:05:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12987576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EachPeachPearPlum/pseuds/EachPeachPearPlum
Summary: In which Merlin and Gwaine go hunting for a Christmas tree, there is hot chocolate, and all is well in the world.





	The Great Christmas Tree Hunt 2017

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ViridianJane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViridianJane/gifts).



> Dearest Gabby,
> 
> It's always been my opinion that there aren't enough Merlin/Gwaine writers out there, so it was an absolute delight to have you join us this year (and with as fantastic a start as _Hello, Sweetheart_ , too). Whilst this has been my 'ship from the moment Gwaine first appeared on the show, that's only part of the reason I was so very glad to get you as my giftee.
> 
> I tried so hard to write the Howl's Moving Castle AU you put as your first prompt. I had a plot (mostly), and 8k written (ish), and there was even going to be art to go with it (not that that's entirely a good thing, given my absolute lack of talent in that area), and I kept going with it way past the point where it should have been obvious I wasn't going to have enough time to finish it. Even now, I wish I'd carried on, because the fic I imagined it was would have been the fic someone as wonderful as you deserves.
> 
> Alas, with the speed I've been writing lately it would probably have been next Christmas before I got anywhere close to being complete, so I have added it to my _I'll finish this another time_ folder. Instead you are getting something festive and light and I hope it does a little bit to make up for you not being around to go with your family to cut your own tree.
> 
> I wish you the happiest of holidays, and the brightest of new years.
> 
> Love, Anon...
> 
> (Much gratitude must go to the mods, both for all the hard work they must put into organising this fest and for their patience with my abysmal disregard for deadlines. Thank you!)

Despite his good, Catholic upbringing, Gwaine isn’t one for the holiday season. Sure, he likes having an excuse for a good piss-up just as much as the next borderline alcoholic, but since he stopped believing, stopped letting his family drag him to church, the whole thing seems sort of… empty.

He’ll eat the free meals, drink the free booze, buy gifts for the few people likely to bother buying him one, but if the stupid bloody festival fell off the face of the earth, Gwaine really wouldn’t give a damn.

Which, of course, only makes his current location all the more surprising.

“I don’t know,” Merlin says, pacing yet another circle around the tree they’re currently assessing. “It’s just so… bushy. All those branches.”

Gwaine leans against a fence post, tapping his leg with the stupid, tall flag they have to wave to summon a bloke with a saw once they’ve chosen a tree (and Gwaine’s still cursing the dumb rules that mean they’re not allowed to carry a saw and chop down their own tree anymore). “Isn’t that sort of the point? It’s kind of hard to hang baubles on nothing, right?”

“And it’s so symmetrical, too,” Merlin adds, as though Gwaine hasn’t said anything. “It's not right.”

 _Of course it isn’t_ , Gwaine thinks, because there’s been something wrong with every single tree they’ve looked at so far, and if it was anyone else Gwaine would have lost his patience ages ago.

It’s Merlin, though, and apparently Gwaine has about a thousand times more patience where he’s concerned than he does with anyone else.

“Okay,” he says, tactfully not mentioning the fact that this is easily the best tree they’ve seen all afternoon. “We’ll keep looking…”

The grin Merlin gives him makes the whole thing worth it, even the cold and the steady flutter of snow and the fact that Gwaine lost his bloody walking socks somewhere between the house and the car so his socks are falling off inside his wellies and he’s got a blister growing on his left heel and Gwaine hates the stupid obsession the whole world seems to have with Christmas, he really does, but if it makes Merlin smile like that…

 _It’s not that bad_ , he thinks, and when Merlin does one final loop of the tree, nods his head decisively, and moves away from the impeccable arboreal presence before them, Gwaine follows him willingly, the same way he’s followed him for months now.

X

Merlin, God bless him, has found the most lopsided, unconventional, _unusual_ Christmas tree Gwaine has ever seen.

Well, that's not entirely fair. It might not be close to the perfection of the tree the pair of them found earlier, but it's green enough, and it has a full complement of needles. As trees go, there are both deader and uglier ones out there. It's just…

“Don't you think it's a bit… uneven?” he asks gently, because Merlin just looks so enthusiastic and it's honestly the most tactful way Gwaine can think of to say _love, that's the wonkiest Christmas tree I've ever seen_.

Sadly, it seems it's not tactful enough, because Merlin’s face falls, his smile drooping like every single branch on the left-hand side of the bloody tree does. “I thought that was part of its charm,” he says sadly, reaching out and practically petting the damn thing.

“I’m not saying it’s not charming, Merlin,” Gwaine says, hands raised in a way he hopes desperately is falling on the correct side of the placating/offensive divide. “It’s just kind of flat.”

Merlin looks back at the tree, frowning like he somehow hasn’t noticed this completely obvious fact. “But it’s going to go in the corner. We can put that side against the wall.”

“We can…” Gwaine agrees, using a great deal of self-restraint in order to keep himself from adding the _or we could pick one where we don’t have to keep half of it hidden_ that so desperately wants to come out.

“The living room is tiny,” Merlin continues, enthusiasm making a comeback. “If we get this one, we’ll be able to get it much closer to the wall. It’ll save loads of space, and we won’t have to trim it at all, and it’s not like we’ll be trying to hang baubles on those branches if they’re at the back so it doesn’t matter if it’s a little bit droopy. And,” he adds after a moment, like it decides the whole thing, “It’ll be easier to tie it to the roof, too.”

“I think they put it in a net,” Gwaine points out, though he does so lightly and in passing, rather than with any intention of dissuading him; if Merlin’s made his mind up, Gwaine’s hardly invested enough to argue with him. “If you're sure this is the one you want, it's the one we’ll get.”

Resigned, he hands Merlin the flag and tries not to grin too openly as he waves it with great enthusiasm.

X

They’re joined shortly by a man with a chainsaw and the broadest shoulders Gwaine has ever seen.

“You’ve decided?” he asks, smiling affably as he looks at the rows of trees around them like he’s trying to figure out which one they’ve picked.

“Yep,” Merlin chirps, his enthusiasm not having waned in the slightest while they’ve been waiting. “We want this one.”

The bloke turns his head to look at the tree Merlin’s pointing at, gazing at it for a moment before turning back to the pair of them.

“That one?”

Again, Merlin’s smile falters a little, and Gwaine steps closer to him, lacing their fingers together. “That one,” he says firmly, as decisive as Merlin needs him to be.

The man glances between them, clearly trying to decide if they’re taking the mickey, then shrugs in a way Gwaine interprets as _it’s your money_ and yanks the chainsaw into action.

X

The man makes short work of chopping down the tree (and, okay, Gwaine will grant it’s definitely quicker to call over an employee with a chainsaw than it is to use a handsaw, but he still thinks all the stupid health and safety laws are sucking all the fun and tradition out of life), then hauls it up onto his shoulder like it’s nothing more than a twig.

Still beaming, Merlin leads the victorious procession back towards the car park.

X

The tree is netted up and secured to the roof of the car, the heater is roaring away trying to warm up Gwaine’s crappy old Seat, and the pair of them are sat in their seats, still shivering a little as they pass a single thermos cup of hot chocolate between them.

“Are you sure you’re happy with it?” Merlin asks, taking a large sip that leaves a chocolatey moustache perched above his top lip, then hands Gwaine the cup again.

“No,” Gwaine answers, poking gently at the now fairly sizeable blister on his heel before pulling his sock up over his foot and pulling his trainer back on. “I was sure I put a couple of mugs in the boot, but apparently they vanished into the same black hole that ate my socks.”

Merlin responds to his pout with a sympathetic smile, reaching out to pat his knee. “I’m sorry,” he says, despite his complete lack of responsibility for either pair of missing items. He stays quiet for a long moment, tapping his still gloved hands on the steering wheel, then says, “I meant the tree, though. Are you happy with it?”

Gwaine looks at him, at the uncertain frown that crinkles his forehead slightly, at the way he bites nervously at his lower lip, and there’s really only one answer Gwaine can give him.

“It’s perfect,” he says, and it’s absolutely true. It’s not the tree he would have picked, not all tidy and boring and conventional, but it’s the Merlin of Christmas trees. It’s wonky and a little scruffy and God only knows how they’re going to keep it upright when they get it home and have half a tonne of baubles and tinsel and lights draped over it, but he can see it in their living room, next to Gwaine’s lumpy green sofa and the ugly orange curtains Merlin’s mum made for them when they moved in. Their mismatched collection of ornaments, their untidily wrapped pile of presents, their things steadily merging together and never mind that they clash horribly, the same way Merlin’s adoration for Christmas and Gwaine’s utter lack of interest in it ought to clash horribly.

It shouldn’t work, the image he has of it, just the same as they shouldn’t work, but it does, and they do.

Their first Christmas tree.

“I love it,” Gwaine says, and the smile Merlin gives him this time isn’t the same bold, bright one he’s thrown around all day, the same one he gives to everyone he meets. It’s smaller, and maybe more complicated, but it’s content, it’s real, and it’s as precious a gift as Gwaine could ever hope to receive. “I love you.”

“I know,” Merlin answers, because in their very early days Gwaine made the mistake of saying he’d always wanted a Han/Leia moment and Merlin is never, ever going to let him forget it.

He leans across the gap between their seats, gently cradling Gwaine’s jaw as he presses a painfully, perfectly sweet kiss to his lips, and Gwaine figures he can probably forgive him.


End file.
